


I Know You Like It When It Hurts

by NaeSpark



Series: Passive Aggressive Struggles Between Love And Alcohol [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaeSpark/pseuds/NaeSpark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The game is over. Everything is back to normality. Normality being everyone who survive inhabiting the same universe.<br/>As Lalondes are stuck in the same house together, not even pancakes can sweeten the environment.<br/>Can they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reaching

**Author's Note:**

> www.naesnark.tumblr.com (alternatively www.ficsnark.tumblr.com)

 I was tired. So very tired.

 I seemed not to remember what it felt like not to be absolutely exhausted. That was my natural state and my body did nothing to avoid or ignore it. Of course, one is not supposed to be tired upon waking up, but I guess being Rose Lalonde did not include me in the vast group of regular mortals who can actually afford not to be tired upon waking up.

 Fuck my life.

 Or whatever was left of it.

 Sun entered the room, coming from the window placed on my left side, coming between the blinds as small rays and manifesting in the form of tiny rectangles scattered all over the room. The sight was probably amusing, were I not too drained to actually get up and observe my surroundings.

 There was a soft knock at the door, to which I groaned a response that made little sense, even to me.

 She entered as softly as she knocked, blinking twice before deciding it was safe to approach me.

 “I am yet to bite people.” I murmured.

 “You went grimdark once.” She smiled gently.

 “One can never be too cautious, then, is it?”

 With two skipping steps, she made her way to the edge of my bed and sat there. “Breakfast is ready.”

 “I’m not exactly hungry, Roxy.”

 There was a glimpse of hurt in her eyes, lasting less than a second. “Oh. I’m sorry, then.” She crossed and uncrossed her feet, forcing my eyes to her pink Converse.

 Roxy had small feet. Small features seemed to be the main characteristic of a Lalonde - not that I was to complain. I had learnt, a long time before, that smaller people tend to go unnoticed, which was more than favouring to my fondness for discretion.

 Regardless, Roxy was barely taller than me and had small feet, a small chest, and small hands that possessed miraculously lean fingers. She wore a knee-length pink cat sweater and black leggings, framing it all with a bright smile. She tilted her head. “Rosie, what are you staring at?”

 I shook my head and cursed the fact that, in real life, my bluntness would not go unnoticed.

 “Nothing. I would like to rest now.”

 I closed my eyes, hearing the fabric shift and expecting her to take her leave. Instead, I felt her getting closer and taking hold of my cheek, pinching it slightly with her index and thumb, chanting “No no no, you’ve slept ‘till noon, Missy.”

 I could have smothered her at that very instant. “Roxy, I am 18 years old, the exact same age as you. You do not have any parental rights that would allow you to pinch my cheek in such an outrageously cheesy manner.”

 She raised an eyebrow at me, which was an obvious mimic of my behaviour “Am I supposed to take you seriously when you are wearing koala pajamas?”

 I exhaled loudly. “If you will kindly leave the room, I shall change into the darkest goth thing I possess in my wardrobe.”

 “Only if I leave?”

 I bit my lip to avoid responding in the same casual flirtatious tone. “Go.”

 “Fine, fine. You are so not a morning person, Rosie.” She got up, facing the other way and preparing to leave. “Sharing a house after the game wasn’t such a bad idea after all, huh?”

 I grumbled a response and heard her laughter echo in the hallway.

 

******

 

 The smell of pancakes filled the air and, by extent, my nostrils, causing me to raise an eyebrow - Roxy had spoken to me at noon and, considering that I must've had taken twenty minutes performing the actual physical action of getting up, and another thirty making myself look humanly presentable, making it nearly, if not, 1P.M. at that particular time - which was quite late for pancakes.

 I entered the kitchen to see Roxy sitting, supporting her face with both hands and her elbows firmly set on the table. She smiled brightly, as if she hadn't been waiting for me since the gods-knew-when, and as if my delay hadn't been preposterously obnoxious to the point where I, myself, admitted it.

 But there she sat, perfectly angelic and happily smiling.

 “Pancakes for lunch?” I remarked.

 “You just woke up, so it's technically breakfast.” She answered with a fake pout.

 Rolling my eyes, I pulled up a chair and sat down, grimacing at the not-so-perfect smiley face Roxy had drawn in the surface of my pancake pile. I bit my lip at the thought that it was actually perfectly sweet of her to do that, but I let the thought perish before becoming emotional.

 To a great extent, Roxy was distressing to me.

 From the moment I had met her, she distressed me. I was distressed by the way she looked at me, always overly excited and caring. I was distressed by the way she swayed her hips when she moved and the way her nose wrinkled when she was angry. I was so, so very distressed by the way she fluttered around in the kitchen as if she danced, perfectly in sync with the music playing in her iPod, connected to speakers set way too loud for my comfort. I was distressed by the way she puckered her lips and teased me.

 And it distressed me so fucking much to know that I was falling head over heels for her without my heart asking for something as little as simple permission from me.

 With these thoughts in mind, I picked up my fork and knife and began eating, surprised by the sheer quality of her cooking skills. She smiled politely and inquired. “Are they any good?”

 I decided to reply with a sweet smile. “They taste wonderful, Roxy.” Part of me honestly wondered if her masterful skills with pancakes were the result of some sort of palinoic process in which she engaged in order to please me. Roxy had taught me the value of her hardworking nature, which was contrary to my belief on my mother's quaintrelle demeanor.

 I heard a gasp, looking up to see her face contort as she eyed the contents of my plate. “Is something the matter?”

 “Rosie, those pancakes are so bare they could be starring on the next issue of Playboy.”

 “I beg your pardon?”

 “Your.Pancakes.Are.Naked.” she motioned towards the dozens of small flasks she had set on the table, earlier.

 “Are you addressing the lack of syrup?” I was baffled “You even drew a smiley face atop my food.”

 “Well, yeah, but you didn't even put topping on it.” she looked as if she wanted to shake me out of some sort of trance “Pancakes don't even make sense without topping.”

 “If you won't shut up about it, I will simply resume my breakfast and pretend I'm listening to your nonsense.”

 “Rosie Rosie, you don't understand!”

 I began eating my second pancake.

 She talked me into trying several toppings and syrups, and I cursed my raging crush for dimming any will to counter. I decided to blame it onto my lack of sleep and not dwell into it any further.

 Roxy grinned as she fed me tablespoons of pancake, and giggled whenever I grimaced at the unusual taste. Rolling my eyes, I went with it and poked her nose when I was full.

 “That’s enough, Roxy.”

 Pouting, she put away the rest of the pancakes and handed me a napkin. I raised an eyebrow.

 “There’s sugar covering your chin, so, unless you want me to lick it off you, you’re going to use this.”

 Blushing furiously, I cleaned my chin until the sandy texture of sugar grains was nowhere to be found. Cursing her existence for the nth time that afternoon, I put the napkin down and crossed my arms defensively.

 “Why.” I demanded.

 She didn’t stop dancing on her tiptoes while doing the dishes to face me. “Hm?”

 “Why do you always do this?” I furrowed my brows. “I’m not a child.”

 She stopped, but never turned. “Do what?”

 “This...” I struggled. “This action of taking care of me.”

 She eyed me with a surprised expression. “Am I not supposed to? We live in the same house.”

 “I never asked for anything.” _And the things I asked for, were not directed at you._ “You’re not my mother.”

 She snickered slightly. “You might want to rethink that.”

 Panic was already filling my chest. “I don’t care if you have the same DNA or if you’re technically the same person, you’re not my mother. You’ll never be!” I gritted my teeth. “What are you trying to accomplish?”

 Her eyes were a mystery when she turned around to resume dishwashing.

 We stood there in silence and she never danced again.


	2. Nightmares

 Picking up my copy of H.P. Lovecraft’s “Call of Cthulhu”, I braced myself for another sleepless night.

 It was nonchalant routine for me to stay awake until dawn, taunting the shadows in my wall into haunting me when the lights were on.

 With the lights on, there was no darkness whispering in my ear, taunting me instead. Their voices echo in my mind, they play hide-and-seek in the deepest corners of my psyche.

 I was 3 pages ahead when I heard the same familiar knock on my door.

 Biting my lower lip, I recalled that the last time we had spoken had been at lunch time, after which we carefully avoided each other.

 The Lalonde Estate was ridiculously big, but it still felt like we kept bumping into each other, to the point where we spent nearly 10 minutes trying to decide who would go to the bathroom first, until we remembered there are two other bathrooms in the house, one of  which situated across the hall.

 “Was I the only one who came into possession of the gene entitling me to my privacy?” I turned away.

 She stood at the door, furrowing her eyebrows, but she never came in, even after several minutes. Did she expect some type of permission?

“Do you plan on spending your night in the hallway?” Ignoring her footsteps inside my room, I snarled each word. “Are you mocking me? Is your sense of humour so twisted that you take pleasure in- What are you doing?”

 Without a word, she was pushing me aside and taking her space in bed.

 I was about to tell her off, when her expression became serious. “You have nightmares.”

 “That’s ludicrous!”

 “Cut the BS.” She took my book from my hand, laying it on the side.

 “I don’t have nightmares!”

 “Your screams wake me up at night.”

 “...”

 She tucked herself in and supported her face, lying sideways. Her lips were pressed together, as if she expected to be sent away.

 Sighing deeply, I slid inside the covers, back turned to her. There was a slight change in the rhythm of her breathing, and she shifted awkwardly to press her fingertips on my shoulder.

 I held my breath.

 Squeezing my shoulder, she crept closer, still not daring to touch me further.

 “I’m not trying to accomplish anything, Rosie.”

 Suddenly remembering how to breathe, I let out a gasp that startled her into squeezing my shoulder tighter.

 “I don’t know why I do this.” Her tone was breaking. “Maybe it’s because I’m dumb and you’re beautiful.” She paused, as if her own words had surprised her. “Fuck…” I felt her forehead dropping against the back of my neck, her short warm breaths hitting my spine. “Are you serious? You want me to explain why I care about you? Hell, I don’t even know! People care about each other, and it’s all really fun and shit until someone gets hurt.”

 “I’m sorry.”

 “What?” She raised her head abruptly.

 “You were being kind. I was being a jackass.” I shut my eyes. “I know you’re not trying to be my mother. And I know you’re not her.”

 I noticed another shift in her breath, and decided to turn around. I inhaled deeply and did so, only to find my nose brushing in hers. My jaw dropped slightly, and her surprised gasp became part of her warm breath.

 A shiver shook me from top to bottom, and I felt a breath of warm air hitting my tongue, when she panted and bit her lower lip.

 Too close.

 I tried holding my breath in order to control my dizziness, but it was impossible. Air left my lungs under the form of half-repressed gasps. She held her tongue just in time to contain some sort for underdeveloped vocalisation that I couldn’t understand, but she did not pull away.

 At that point, I silently begged her to.

 Her eyes were locked in mine, suddenly too bright and too open to even seem like her own. I could only see bright pink, flushing its way into my brain. I swallowed dryly and and bit my lip, shutting my eyes.

 I sensed her shifting away.

 As ironic as it was, I now wanted to beg her to return. I wanted her lips pressed in mine, her motions synched with mine, and her overall everything all over everything of mine.

 Interrupting my own mentally-muttered curses, I realised there was no reason for my miscalculation. There was no reason for her to be so close.

 Oh.

 “Roxanne. Were you… sniffing me?”

 She pouted, dumbstruck. “W-well, I kinda wanted to uh… to find out what was that nice-smelling shampoo you’ve been using.”

 “That doesn’t even make sense.”

 “Well, whatever, Rosie.” She crossed her arms defensively. “Are we going to sleep, or what?”

 Sighing. I pulled the covers up high enough to cover my ears. When I closed my eyes, I felt Roxy touching my face, and was startled. She smiled embarrassingly.

 “Can you close your eyes? I’m going to try something.”

 I snarled. “Do something weird and I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

 Muffling a giggle, I felt her strapping something around my head. I opened my eyes to try to understand what it was, but everything was dark. Ah. It was a sleeping mask.

 “Where did you even get this?”

 “Mom left one around. I can’t sleep in full dark, because it freaks me out, so I remembered it could be good for you.” I heard her chuckle. “No scary shadows now.”

 “I’m not a child anymore.”

 I had to admit she was right. The mask was decreasing my headaches, and confirming my suspicion that I had photosensitivity.

 “Okay, now only one more thing and we can sleep like total babies.”

 Assuming she would do nothing of harm, I allowed myself to relax. She crept closer and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me towards her chest. I struggled weakly.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Shhhh, Rosie. Now you be a good girl and sleep.”

 “I’m too tired to argue with you.”

 “Good.” Her chest trembled in a victorious cackle.

 Her heart rate seemed abnormal, faster than I would expect. Her breaths were deeper than usual, and her grip was almost a little too tight. Even so, I felt comfortable.

 By whatever reasons my brain deemed appropriate, I decided to sniff her as well, trying to understand what could be so alluring about it.

 Inhaling her scent deeply, I realised she smelt of clean laundry and strawberry sweets. To be honest, I realised she smelt every bit like home.


End file.
